Lenore’s eyes narrowed, but, before she could formulate another distracting question, Jason took charge.
“But enough of my friends, my dear—and more than enough of my relatives,” he added, frowning when she opened her lips. “I would much rather hear about you.”
“Me?” The words came out in a higher register and without the languid dismissiveness Lenore had intended, owing to the fact that Jason had drawn her closer as they approached the end of the floor. His hand burned through the fine silk of her gown, his thighs brushing hers as they whirled through the turn. When they straightened to precess back up the room, he did not relax his hold. Luckily, other couples were crowding on to the floor, obscuring everyone’s view.
“You,” Jason confirmed. “I sincerely hope you cancelled the gowns I ordered from Lafarge.” Lenore looked up, eyes wide. Jason smiled. “Your style is uniquely yours, my dear. I like it far better than any other.”
More flattered than she would have believed possible, Lenore stared up at him. “Actually, my lord—”
“Jason.”
Lenore felt her fingers tighten around his. She forced them to relax. “Jason, the gowns you had ordered were perfectly appropriate. It’s merely that, at least until I get used to such styles, I fear I would find wearing the more revealing gowns unsettling. No doubt I’ll get used to such things in time.”
“Lenore, I would prefer you to dress as you wish. Your own style is much more becoming and infinitely more appropriate than the current mood. I would be happy to see you always garbed in gowns such as you are wearing tonight.”
“Oh.” Lenore looked deep into his eyes but could see nothing beyond an unnerving sincerity. She drew a deep breath. “In that case, my—Jason, I suspect I should warn you to expect a very large bill from Madame Lafarge.”
A smile of considerable charm lit Jason’s face. He chuckled. “I see. What did you do—double the order?”
Eyes on his, Lenore nodded.
For a moment, he could not take it in. Then, the trepidation in her wide eyes, her suspended breathing, registered, confirming the reality. For the first time in a very long while, Jason was at a loss, sheer incredulity obstructing coherent thought. In the end, his sense of humour won through. His lips lifted in an irrepressible grin, breaking into a smile as he saw her confusion grow. Drawing her slightly closer, he sighed. “You will, no doubt, be relieved to know that settling with Lafarge will not greatly dent my fortune. However,” Jason continued, his eyes holding hers, “next time you wish to upbraid me for my high-handed ways, do you think, my dear, that you could simply lose your temper? I find your methods of making me sorry rather novel, to say the least.” Not to mention effective, but he was not so far lost to all caution as to say such words aloud.
“I…ah…” Lenore did not know what to say. His grey eyes, gently quizzing her, were far too perceptive to risk any white lie. As the fact that he was disposed to view her actions in an understanding, even conciliatory way sank in, she summoned enough strength to tilt her chin at him. “If you would refrain from acting high-handedly in the first place, my lord, I would not need to exercise my temper in any way whatever. Which would be greatly to be desired, for I find it extremely wearying.”
Delighted by her haughty response, Jason could not resist asking, his voice low, “And if I refrained from all high-handed behaviour? Would you be suitably grateful, Lenore?”
Her heartbeat filling her ears as his eyes caressed her face, Lenore struggled to keep her feet on the ground. Her bones felt weak, a sensation that had afflicted her once before. Too concerned with keeping her senses under control, she made no effort to answer him.
The confusion in her eyes was answer enough for Jason.
The music stopped. Reluctantly, he freed her, tucking her hand into his arm, a subtle smile curving his lips.
Released from his gaze, Lenore dragged in a steadying breath.
“Great heavens! Lenore!” Spun about, Lenore felt her hand caught, then she was slowly twirled about. Jack came into view, studying her avidly. Coming to a halt in time to see him shoot a glance loaded with masculine meaning at her fiancé, Lenore tugged to get her brother’s attention.
“How is Papa?”
Jack blinked, as if struggling to take her meaning. “Papa? Oh, he’s fine. Couldn’t be better. And his health will improve no end when he gets a look at you. What happened to your pinafores?”
“I left them at home,” Lenore stated with awful deliberation. “Along with my spectacles,” she added before he could ask. “Come and dance with me. I need the practice.”
Leaving Jason with the mildest of nods, she led the way to the floor.
While circling the floor with Jack, she prised his news from him. He had returned to Lester Hall on Wednesday, to set her father’s mind at rest that all was well with her. Apparently all was likewise well at Lester Hall, although Harriet and her father both missed her. However, the arrangements for them to attend her wedding were well in hand; the prospect was the cause of considerable excitement in the household.
“God knows! Some of the servants have asked permission to make the journey, so you might catch sight of some familiar faces in the crowd outside the church.”
Lenore was touched, but, already, Lester Hall and its affairs were fading in her mind, overlaid by the more pressing demands of her new role.
Harry came up as Jack led her from the floor. After making comments sufficiently similar to Jack’s to earn a stern warning from Lenore, he, too, commandeered her for a dance. At the end of it, however, he insisted on returning her to her fiancé’s side, revealing that he had been so instructed by his future brother-in-law and was not about to queer his pitch in that direction.
Lenore did not quite know what to make of that but she was too relieved to be once more in Jason’s protective presence to protest.
He was talking to Frederick Marshall when she joined him. Lenore could not miss the stunned look on Frederick’s face when he saw her.
“My dear Miss Lester.” Coming to himself with a start, Frederick bowed gallantly over Lenore’s hand. Straightening, he blinked. “Er…” Appalled by the words that had leapt to his tongue, Frederick struggled to find suitable replacements.